


AKA Year One

by Cellardoor26



Series: The Dynamic Duo Universe [1]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Episode Tag, F/M, Heavy Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellardoor26/pseuds/Cellardoor26
Summary: What if, at the end of AKA WWJD, Jessica Jones came back to the house of her own free will, agreeing to become the dynamic duo Kilgrave dreams of; trying to balance Kilgrave’s karmic scales and free Jessica of her demons?This goes to dark and twisty places.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Eek. This story is one whole mess of triggers, so please read over the warning labels. 
> 
> I'll be posting the second chapter in a new days, and then I have a few more ideas for fics tied to this universe. 
> 
> Welcome and I'm sorry.

Chapter 1. 

 

They eat their Chinese food quietly, the only sound of communication through the scraping of chopsticks and swigs of beer. Jessica makes him get rid of the hostages, and insists they hit the road tomorrow. He seems so pleased by her return he readily agrees to anything she says. It should make her suspicious, how deferential he’s being, but she’s so weary she doesn’t dwell on it. They’re in her dining room, around the last table that ever felt like home. But there’s no solace in this room. 

 

Jessica feels every bite as a death sentence, leading her further on a path she doesn't want, is terrified of, and yet knows she has to walk for her own redemption and a shot at his. She can’t tell if she’s being incredibly masochistic, or delusionally hopeful, but the juxtaposition between her actions and her desires feels comforting; like this path is one she’s walked on before.  

 

\---

 

There are several rules Jessica enacts: 

 

  1. Kilgrave frees Hope from jail, give her a duffle bag full of money, and never contacts her again
  2. They leave the house. And never come back. 
  3. Kilgrave can’t use his powers until Jessica says otherwise
  4. If Kilgrave steps one toe out of line she’ll kill him and/or leave him
  5. Kilgrave can’t leave her line of sight without her permission. No exceptions. 
  6. They have to earn their money and lodging the honest way.
  7. He’s not allowed to touch her without her consent
  8. If Kilgrave isn’t sure whether or not he can do something, he should keep his mouth fucking shut



 

By month six they break every rule but the first. 

\---

 

They're three days into their cross country “save everyone and reform myself crusade” as Kilgrave likes to call it and Jessica feels sick to her stomach. It's not the six shots of tequila, although she's sure that isn't helping matters, or the double portions Kilgrave keeps making her eat to ensure she isn’t poisoning him, but the fact that when Jessica returned to their hotel, Kilgrave isn't there. 

 

She's not sure what to do at first, she's never been in this situation. Before, when he'd leave, he’d always tell her to wait for him, and there she’d be. Only this time Jessica was the one who left, and she hadn’t said anything to him. She'd been so angry and disgusted by the stunt he’d pulled, manipulating her actions like he’d issued a command, that the moment they were in the hotel room Jessica had dropped her stuff and bolted to the nearest bar, calling out over her shoulder, “Don’t follow me!”. 

 

When he comes out of the bathroom a moment later Jessica feels a physical weight lift off of her. Until he speaks. 

 

“Next time you leave without telling me where or when you’ll be back I'll kill the concierge.” And there it goes, the weight settling back on her like a second skin. 

  
  


It's only when she's in bed later that night, wrapping her blanket tightly around her to dull the feel of him lying next to her that Jessica realizes he didn't pretend someone else was going to be committing his murders. 

 

And fuck if that isn't the most promising start to this. 

 

\--

 

They fight so much Jessica thinks she could have some of their arguments without him. There's the “We Don't Kill People, Ever” play, tried and true, the “You Can't Do Something Just Because You're Able To” gem that leads nowhere, the “You Threw Me Under a Bus” argument Kilgrave loves to go to because he feels makes him morally superior, even though it leads directly to “You Made Me Kill Someone”; which then devolves into “I Didn’t Say Those Exact Words Jessica, Face Those Facts”, and the ever popular: “I Shouldn't Have To Worry About Leaving You Alone For A Second” which is her least favorite because he always manages to turn that one around, to twist up her words and make it seem like she’s worried about him, and not all the innocent people surrounding them. Regardless, arguing with Kilgrave makes her feel safe, like she's doing the right thing. She hates it when they go a whole afternoon without fighting, and she loathes how that keeps happening more and more often. 

 

\-- 

 

“First rule of heroism, don’t be a prick.” 

 

\--

 

The thing is, she thinks as she downs another shot from the hotel mini fridge (They had a twenty minute argument full of barbed words and tense moments but no sexual tension, none of that, before settling on this crappy hotel since “It’s only one we can afford Kilgrave!”.) the thing is that Kilgrave is capable of being human, that fucker. His twisted brilliant mind sure does concoct a ton of shit to explain away why he should be able to do whatever he wants, but it's been three months of her forced captivity - forced on her part, captive on his (Or is it the other way around?) - and she's forced to acknowledge that he's changed. Not very much. And you wouldn’t notice it unless you were forced to spend every freaking moment together, but he has changed. And it’s for the better. 

 

She takes another shot. He still does stupid shit all the time, random and terrifying layers of “building the trust” and in those moments she feels most secure. She is the hero, he's the villain, and she must use all her powers to keep him detained. 

 

But there are times, and they're growing in frequency, that he acts with something like humanity. And they terrify her. Because she can't see him as human, as a man. She can't. 

 

Jessica takes another drink. 

 

\---

 

It’s two weeks in and they’re one their ninth case. Kilgrave has almost killed and/or harmed seven people, but each time he swears that it was by accident, or he forgot himself, and that next time he’ll do better. Jessica is terrified he’s testing boundaries, or waiting for her to slip up so that he go back to the life they lived, and she can barely sleep. He offers to tell her to go to sleep, when the noise from the TV wakes him up for the fifth night in a row. 

 

“Fuck off.” She tells him, and he breathes out in an amused huff. She turns off the TV anyway, flipping her pillow over and over as though she’s the princess and it’s a pea keeping her awake.

 

“You know, you won’t be able to watch my every move tomorrow if you’re so sleep deprived you can’t see straight.” Jessica says nothing to this well reasoned point. She’s terrified of letting him control her, but she’s also terrified she’ll make a mistake in the case and he’ll kill again; her conscious won’t be able to handle it. Jessica stays silent so long she expects he’s fallen back asleep and that’s part of what makes her say, 

 

“Okay.” He turns to her so quickly she hears his neck creak, and fear paralyzes her; she’s terrified he’ll command her right away. But when he doesn’t move or speak she breathes out. “But only what I tell you to say. And if you add anything in I’ll ditch you the moment I can.”

 

“Okay.” He echoes, his voice soft and hesitant. 

 

“Tell me.” She almost stops then; she can’t believe she’s doing this, “to fall asleep instantly without dreams and if you leave this room without my knowledge to have that wake me up.” Jessica hadn’t realized that she’d been coming up with that command for awhile now, trying to get it right without any loopholes. Kilgrave waits a moment, feeling the unfamiliar words in his mind before he speaks, 

 

“Fall asleep.” He tells her, and a wave of exhaustion rolls over her, “Don’t dream, and if, for any reason, I leave this room while you’re not with me, that should wake you up.” Jessica wonders if that’s far enough away from her words to be a boundary test, but the thought doesn’t fully coalesce in her mind before she’s out like a light. Kilgrave watches her from his bed, fighting the urge to brush back her hair and listening to her breath in and out before he goes to sleep as well.  

 

\--

 

They're standing in line at the grocery store and Kilgrave is annoying the fuck out of her. He keeps babbling about all the ways he'd use his powers to get the groceries they'd need, or that he could make the store cook up a feast for them and the people would be happy to do it, but Jessica can’t listen to him, she can't take another moment of it. Being in this store, seeing all the normal families choosing to spend their lives together, and loving each other, with only petty grievances that mean nothing in the face of daylight makes her head spin and her throat constrict. She hates herself for choosing this life, she hates that she decided to try to fix Kilgrave, she can’t stand another moment of the fluorescent glare and how people keep looking at them like they belong with all these happy family units. She wants to scream that she’s just as captive as she was a year ago, and feels so trapped in her choices she can’t breath. 

 

She pushes past him, forgoing their spot in line, and rushes into the cool air of the parking lot. 

 

“Are you alright?” Kilgrave asks a moment later, joining her as she dry heaves against some post with brightly colored fliers. She wishes she had some food in her stomach to throw up, to feel like she’s actually accomplishing something. 

 

“No, I’m not fucking alright.” Jessica bursts out, exhausted from everything, tired of his stream of complaints, wondering who she is and why she thinks she could do this. The thought that plagues her comes out. “I'm not your fucking savior.” He doesn’t say anything in response, doesn’t rub her back although she can feel the heat of him standing so close to her, wanting to. 

 

After several long minutes her stomach calms down and her head clears. She turns her body to lean against the post, totally drained. She looks him over and can’t summon the energy to be disgusted by how he’s looking at her, as though he’s concerned. 

 

Jessica looks down and sees his empty hands. “You didn't steal the groceries?” She asks. 

 

“Nope.” Kilgrave says, “knew you wouldn't like it.” His voice takes on a contemplative edge, “I know you don't want to be my savior, and I realize by now you think you don't deserve the title, but Jessica, I do think I'm more moral than I ever was before our adventure began.” His voice rolls over her, and she looks up from his hands. Just a moment before she felt trapped and sick, but the dry heaving and emotional outburst must have cleared that away and now Jessica feels more like herself.  “Come on.” He tells her, “let's order take out and watch that horrible show you secretly love.” 

 

“Figure you’d only use the word “horrible” about reality TV.” She tells him, and insists that the smile on her face is sarcastic. The look of absolute surprise and pleasure on his face tells her that her smile is a bit too genuine for that to be true, but she refuses his offered hand; so she calls it a draw. 

\--

 

“You know,” Kilgrave says conversationally, “you drink far too much. If you just said the word, well if I just said the word, you’d be satisfied with a drink or two. I could even help you have a better emotional state.” Jessica looks at him in horror. “Wouldn’t that be a good use of my powers?” 

 

Jessica tells Kilgrave off, that you can’t manipulate someone’s head like that, that you can’t mess with people without their permission, but halfway through her speech she realizes that his argument is technically correct: to ease a person’s emotional burdens and help them choose better coping mechanisms is exactly why they’ve begun this torturous march in the first place. However, Jessica’s never eased off a fight just because she’s in the wrong, and since she can’t have the moral high ground she’ll go dirty. 

 

“And the only reason I’m in this emotional state is because of you!” She ends with vehemently. It feels good to say it, even if she’s made this point so many times it no longer feels as self righteous and accusatory as it used to. Jessica waits for his response. In the three months and twelve days they’ve been shackled together Jessica has spewed out this declaration no less than one hundred and forty seven times. She’s seen him deny it, ignore her, pretend she said something else, beg her to see his side, and refute her with tiny glimpses of her obvious affection for him from when he tied her to him with his commands. Jessica waits, daring him to try his luck again with any of those arguments, gearing herself up to fight him.

 

“Well then,” He starts, and Jessica can’t wait to yell at his rebuttal, “it would make sense that I’d be morally obligated to help fix it then, wouldn’t it?” He asks. Jessica feels like she’s been sucker punched; all the pressure she’d been building up is suddenly released in a great burst and she barely notices the huge gasp of breath she makes. She can’t believe her ears and wonders for a moment if she misheard him, or imagined what he said. Because even though his tone is flippant and dismissive, and even though he didn’t apologize or beg her forgiveness, it feels like he has. She can’t believe he finally acknowledged the hell he put her through. Without meaning to, or even wanting to, Jessica feels herself start to forgive him. 

 

“Where’s the remote?” She asks him, her voice shaky. He passes it to her quietly, used to her shifting moods and contradictory actions that the non sequitur doesn't even faze him; and even while Jessica presses down hard on the volume button to drown out her thoughts she can’t ignore how the mood has shifted between them.  

 

\--

 

“What?” Kilgrave asks. He’s just come out of some extremely fancy, high end store. He tugs on the vest of his suit, and Jessica thinks it’s ridiculous that this is what he’s choosing to spend his cut of the money on. 

 

“Another suit?” She asks in disbelief, “How much did you spend on it?” He looks chagrined and for a moment she’s sure he used his powers to get what he wanted. 

 

“It was on sale, actually.” His admits like this is a grave sin. “Originally 1200 for seven.” He looks embarrassed, and just like that, he’s more of a man than she’s ever seen him. Jessica wants to scoff at him, and a month ago she would have, but she’s oddly impressed that he spent money on such a banal activity.  _ It’s probably the first time he bought a suit with money _ , she thinks. “What do you think?” He asks, turning a bit so she can see all his angles.

 

“You look goo- whatever, I don’t care how you look.” She tells him, but they both know what she meant to say, and her cheeks heat up in a horrible sign of weakness. “Come on, I’m hungry.” She tells him, and walks away in quick strides, wanting to remove herself from the moment. 

 

He catches up a moment later and says gaily, “You didn’t even look at my shoes!” 

 

\--

 

“Let’s get something very clear.” Kilgrave tells her in the voice she hears every night in her nightmares. “I am sacrificing a lot to become better for you.” Jessica looks up from her phone and sees that Kilgrave is looking at her very intently, anger written all over his features, “A little kindness in return would not be unwarranted.” Jessica wonders where his abrupt mood change comes from; they were having their first, sort of almost pleasant afternoon at a movie theater. Kilgrave had asked if they could see a “cinema” and they’d actually found something they both agreed on; a science fiction film with no gore and no romance. Jessica was waiting for him to get out of the bathroom, and thought she had been plenty kind, waiting patiently while he took forever in there and only considering the likelihood that he was going on a murder spree twice.  

 

“No, you’re becoming a better person because it’s the right thing to do.” She tells him in that same tone, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

 

“What’s wrong with me? I turn my attention from you for one second and you’re already all over the next man who shows you any affection!”

 

“What?” Jessica asks, completely baffled. “What are you talking about?” Kilgrave gets ready to yell at her, and she can see his muscles tightening, when that guy who’d been annoying her while Kilgrave was in the bathroom comes back. 

 

“Hey, this guy bothering you?” He asks, and Jessica wants to laugh because the only person who’s ever come to aid against Kilgrave is a big creep who kept hitting on her and didn’t understand the meaning of no. 

 

“Am I bothering her?” Kilgrave asks in disbelief, his anger turned towards Chad or Chuck or whatever his name is. Jessica suddenly realizes Kilgrave probably saw this guy using terrible lines on her, and since he doesn’t have a empathetic bone in his body, thought she wanted the attention. 

 

“You’re jealous?” She says incredulously, the words forced out by her shock and disbelief. Kilgrave looks at her, still angry and dangerous, but she also notices that he looks wounded, and Jessica wants to laugh. 

 

“You,” Kilgrave says to the guy who’s breathing too loudly, “are to-”

 

“Oh for god's sake” Jessica moans, and puts her hand over Kilgrave’s mouth. “Beat it.” She tells the other guy, “Like I said the last five times, I’m not interested.” Jessica turns back to look at Kilgrave, “Next time you make an assumption about me, or where my “affection” lies, do me a favor and check your facts. I don’t want to have to kill you for using your powers just because you’re too stupid to realize I’m not interested.” She watches Kilgrave’s head nod, and finds herself smiling, enjoying the look of him powerless against her strength. She imagines forcing him to wear a gag, but something must show on her face because Kilgrave takes a step closer and bears down on her. While his gaze has lost its anger, there’s still an intensity there that makes her uncomfortable. She hastily moves her hand and wipes it on her jeans like he’s got cooties she doesn’t want to catch.  

 

“I can’t take you anywhere.” She complains, but her voice sounds shaky even to her. 

 

\--

 

“Do you think we’ve saved enough people to put my karmic scales at zero?” He’ll ask every so often, either when they’ve done something particularly amazing or when he’s bored and whatever grunt work they’re doing doesn’t interest him. 

 

“It doesn’t work like that.” She’ll remind him yet again.

 

\--

 

When Jessica and Kilgrave first started arguing about morality and ethics, Jessica always began with intention. 

 

“You have to want to do good!” She’d expound in great length. “It doesn’t matter that you want to do it for me, you have to do it for yourself.” She would love arguing this point because A. It showed that he was a scumbag even when he did the right thing since he didn’t actually want to, and B. It illustrated how little she cared for his attempts at romance, at the belief that she could make him a better man. 

 

But as time went on Jessica used this argument less and less. 

 

“So you’re saying if one person who does one good deed because they want to for altruistic reasons it’s better than another person doing a hundred good deeds because they’re forced to?” Jessica pulls up short, morality has never been in her wheelhouse, and this sounds like a trap. 

 

“Well…” She responds, at a loss on how to prove her point. 

 

“What if one person stops a murderer on accident, and another person stops a pedestrian from jaywalking on purpose. Is the second person more noble because they did the right thing as they knew it was right? Even though the first person stopped a lot more evil from occurring?” 

 

“Kilgrave.”

 

“I’m attempting to right my past wrongs to win the love of a noble woman. Isn’t that noble in itself, even if I’m not overcome with doing good for it’s own sake?”

 

It worries Jessica how much better Kilgrave is at arguing moral philosophy than her in just a few short months. Eventually she stops bringing up this point all together. She’s worried that before too long Kilgrave will make her concede that it’s better to do good than to want to do good. 

 

\--

 

Every once in awhile he gets her flowers with some horrible card with a trite saying on it. She enjoys ripping up the card in front of him and throwing the flowers away. The look on his face, like he’s been put through the ringer, comforts her, and she always smiles while she’s doing it. 

 

It’s not until they're gone through this song and dance more times than she can count that Jessica realizes, maybe he knows exactly how she’ll act, and does it just so he can see her smile at something he does. 

 

\--

 

It's four months and two days in. Jessica's just gotten off the phone with Trish, and she's totally unable to stop a smile forming on her face because for the first time Trish hasn’t spent the entire conversation probing for Jessica’s emotional state, making her repeat horrible things about Kilgrave (which is actually kind of fun) to prove she’s still in her own mind, or beg her to run away and come home. They’d actually had an almost normal conversation, where Jessica went over a particularly amusing case, and Trish told her all about how things are going with Simpson. It’s so goddamn normal Jessica feels her eyes smarting, missing Trish like hell but trying not to show it when Kilgrave speaks. 

  
“We could go visit her, you know. I'm sure there are wrongs to right in New York.” 

  
And god help her but Jessica considers it for a minute. A fantasy of seeing her best friend again, how they could hang out just like old times. But the fantasy shifts in her head to include Kilgrave and she knows she’s deluding herself. One moment of Trish and Kilgrave in the same room and they’d be at each other’s throats; who knows how Kilgrave would react to Trish’s caustic barbs. It would be like asking a newly sober alcoholic to open a bottle of aged scotch and bring it to his face to smell it. 

  
“No.” Jessica says loudly, “You’re not ready.” Kilgrave’s eyebrows rise in surprise and Jessica realizes her mistake. 

  
She just admitted for the first time she thinks he can get better. 

 

\---

 

They’re in a library combing through newspapers, looking for mysterious sightings or any unsolved crimes, when a young woman comes up to Kilgrave. Jessica’s instantly on alert when the teenage speaks,    
  


“Excuse me, but are you that famous actor from that BBC program?” she asks. Jessica’s endocrine system goes into overdrive, this was always something Kilgrave hated. He couldn’t stand when people would assume he was someone else, especially someone famous. Kilgrave smiles and her stomach flips unpleasantly. 

 

“I am not! But if he looks like me he must be a handsome devil.” The teenager laughs, blushing prettily, and it scares Jessica. Without meaning to she puts a hand over Kilgrave’s, wanting to warn him not to try anything, but it has a very different effect. She realizes this is the first time she’s touched him in more than a year by her own design, and not in violence. The teenager instantly looks chagrined, like she didn’t realize they’re a couple, and Kilgrave turns to her, his face wide open and vulnerable, hopeful that she’s jealous. She quickly pulls her hand away, but the damage is done. The young woman stutters out an apology and Kilgrave spends the next hour spending more time staring at her than leafing through the newspapers. In the end they find nothing. 

 

“What a bust.” Jessica sighs as they leave. Kilgrave only says, 

 

“I don’t know, seems like an enjoyable morning to me.” 

 

Jessica ignores him. 

 

\--

 

“I have a moral dilemma.” Kilgrave explains to a sleeping Jessica. He’ll do this too often, wake her up at an ungodly hour like seven just because he’s bored. 

 

“It’s too early for moral dilemmas.” Jessica maintains, pulling the blankets over her head. 

 

“I know, that’s what my moral dilemma stems from.” Jessica tries to ignore him, but Kilgrave continues, “See, if I asked you to wake up, bright eyed and in good cheer, that would improve your temperament, wouldn’t it? So even though I’d be using my powers, they’d be for you.” Jessica lowers her blanket, glaring at Kilgrave. He’s perched on his bed, but they’re only a foot apart and she’s eye level with his knees. 

 

“You’d be waking me up so that you would have someone to talk to.” She tells him pointedly, “And you’d want me to be cheery so I’d be nice to you.” She argues, ready to take him to task. 

 

“My dear,” Kilgrave replies, all smiles, “I don’t think my heart would be able to handle you being nice to me.” Jessica throws her pillow at him, using her strength so he falls over. 

 

“It’s too early for this!” She yells over his laughter. 

 

\--

 

“Make it goddamn right, Jones.” She tells herself. 

 

\--

 

“Listen Jessie-” Kilgrave starts, one hand combing through his hair as the other points emphatically at the case he’d rather be solving (“It’s sexier!” he’d argued just a moment before.)

 

“Don’t call me that!” She snipes at him, annoyed how she’d always liked the way men push back their hair and worried he’s used that specific adjective because he’s noticed. In her head she maintains that she doesn’t have any specific feelings about him doing it, it’s just a thing she has. About all men. 

 

“Ah, so you’re allowed to make demands of me but not the other way around?” He asks, smirking. She realizes with a start that her eyes have been glued to his form and has to replay the last few moments to know what he just said. 

 

“Exactly.” She concludes, tearing her gaze from him and back to the computer screen. To the case they absolutely will be working on and not his dumb one.

 

“Well.” He says, his mood so jovial she knows she’s been caught, “Doesn’t that make us just like every other couple on Earth?”

 

Jessica blow the hair out of her face. 

 

\--

 

The moment Jessica wakes up, refreshed for the first time in two weeks, she knows it was a massive mistake to let Kilgrave command her to sleep. She gets out of bed in barely two blinks, and rushes to the bathroom. She splashes water on her face and feels her body shaking all over. She can barely stand and has to lower herself to the lid of the tub, not even able to move to the toilet for a better seat. There’s a knock on the bathroom door and Kilgrave asks her if she’s alright. 

 

“Stay out of my shit!” She yells at him, and then promptly throws up. Because he didn’t force his way inside her, she let him in. 

 

\--

 

Jessica makes a vow to herself she’ll never let him inside again, no matter what happens. 

 

It’s ten months later when she’s forced to break that promise. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two. 

\--

“Psst. Jessica.” Kilgrave whispers loudly in the middle of the night. They’re in a tiny motel room, their twin beds so close they might as well have sprung for the double, and Jessica is trying to ignore his breathing. 

“What?” She asks, trying to stir up some anger in her voice.

“Remember that time I made every cop point a gun at someone’s head?” He asks like he wants to share a particularly diverting anecdote and not recall a horrifying memory. 

“Yes.” She tells him, more awake than she was a moment before. 

“I’m pretty sure that was overkill. I think I could have made you come with me if I’d only made three or four coppers pull their gun.” Jessica laughs without meaning to, the comment so strange and horrible she can’t help the mirth. Kilgrave joins in, his laughter far nicer than she’s ever heard it. 

“Just kidding.” He tells her, shifting so that his body is angled closer to her, if that’s even possible, “I bet I could have made you come with only one, you big softie.” Jessica has stopped laughing, but there’s still a smile on her face as she turns and looks at him in the night. 

“Or you could have not threatened people’s lives to get what you want.” But her voice doesn’t have any of her usual rancor. Kilgrave makes a noise like he can understand her point but look where they are and didn’t he get exactly what he wanted? Only then he says, “Maybe you’re right.” And the way he says it, like he’s not just repeating the sentiment but actually agrees with her makes Jessica warm all over, and she doesn’t turn her back to him like usual as she falls asleep.

\--

Jessica gets sick in Alaska. 

It's all the clean air, she tries to muster as her fever spirals and she feels too weak to do more than lie in bed and watch daytime TV. She should have made a plan for this, but they’re six weeks into this journey and Jessica never gets sick, so it hadn’t even crossed her radar. 

Kilgrave, with explicit instructions of what he is and isn’t allowed to do, and imaginative punishments if he strays, leaves to get their provisions. It feels like old times, those rare occasions he'd leave her somewhere and tell her not to move. Even though he hasn't compelled her since that once, her body feels just like he has; the sickness dragging on her limbs, making her feel weak. 

Jessica falls asleep waiting for Kilgrave to come back. When a noise arouses her, she feels a growing sense of panic. She calls out his name, but with no response, the feeling continues unabated. Jessica wonders if she should go out to look for him, fever or no, when the doorknob rattles and Kilgrave pops his head in. Jessica feels this terrible sense of elation, elated because he's not running off killing people or god knows what, and terrible because she can't have that emotion be linked to him, no matter what. 

“Look! I've braved the weather and got you soup! And saltines! And some of that fizzy drink you like.” 

“Vodka tonics?” Is all she can manage to say because Jessica can't handle this; none of those items were on the list. It must be a trap, because she can't handle Kilgrave’s kindness if it isn't.

Kilgrave laughs and tells her a grocer at the store helped him with the groceries. She’s too tired to ask whether that help was freely given. 

“Now, do you want to come sit on the couch to eat or shall I fed you in bed?” 

Jessica tries to make it to the couch, but the best she can manage is sitting up in bed. Kilgrave sets up a tray for her, and she’s embarrassed to admit she almost lets him feed her, but at the last minute her pride wins out over her fevered, exhausted limbs, and she slowly begins eating. 

It’s the worst soup in her life, even though it's warm and filling and the first thing her stomach will accept. Still, it is the worst because it feels comforting and Kilgrave specifically got these items just for her. She tries to tell herself that Kilgrave has ulterior plans and is covering them up by this gesture, but looking at his eyes as he watches her eat, the thought rings a bit too hollow. 

\---

“Before I met you I rarely dwelled on anything.”

\--

It’s twilight of day one hundred and sixty-seven. The sun is in the middle of setting, and shadows linger in the alleyway.

Jessica has a gun pointed directly at Kilgrave’s heart. In front of her lays a slumped man, with his hand closed around the knife that’s protruding from his belly. Kilgrave stands over him, staring down with an intense look. She’s seen it a thousand times before; it’s the same glance Kilgrave’s gives after he’s told someone to do something and is now checking to make sure everything’s squared away just as he said. 

Jessica is horrified, not at the scene before her, but her own emotions; she’s in a total state of shock, she can’t believe he’s done this when they’ve both worked so hard, when she was finally starting to- to tru-. No, she can’t say the word. 

“You mother f-” Kilgrave looks up and smiles at her, 

“Jessica.” He says warmly, “Look at me, righting wrongs without you. And even using my powers when there’s a witness!” Jessica is rendered speechless, his words and tone making even less sense than the scene in front of her. Without the conscious directive she lowers the gun sightly and turns her head; she isn’t sure what she’s searching for until she finds it: his witness. 

There’s a woman in a red coat, torn in several places; her backpack’s contents have spilled all around her, and she’s had something stuffed in her mouth to keep her sounds at whimper level. Jessica lowers the gun and rushes to the women while her mind plays catch up, her coat isn’t red by design, that’s blood. 

While Jessica kneels in front of this women her eyes take inventory. This woman’s been cut dozens of times, the wounds shallow enough to bleed profusely, but not cause immediate mortal damage. Jessica feels her daze and shock switch to confusion; Kilgrave’s a psychopath, but his torture always a logical reason behind it, and she can't fathom why he's done this. 

Dimly she can hear Kilgrave tell her they need to get away so they can call the police, but Jessica ignores him. She quickly strips off her leather jacket, and then her sweatshirt. She tears up the fabric and presses it against every wound she can see, worried she's doing more harm than good. She can tell she’s hurting the woman because she starts moaning and then opens her eyes.

They focus on Jessica for a moment, and then turn to Kilgrave. Jessica expects fear or horror to show up on the woman’s face and is utterly thrown; this woman is looking at Kilgrave in complete worship and awe. Jessica removes the gag belatedly, her heart wrenching as she feels how damp it is, and she watches the woman mouth two words, over and over. It takes Jessica four repetitions before she realizes what she’s saying

“Thank you.” 

Immediately the world rushes back in, and all of these disjointed images and feelings and thoughts come together; Jessica can’t breathe from it. 

“You made him stab himself.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind, considering the circumstances.” Kilgrave says, coming closer to Jessica. He picks up her jacket and wipes the dirt from it. The woman won’t turn her eyes away from Kilgrave, watching his every move, and Jessica calls 911 for something to do now that’s she’s bandaged her as best she can. 

Although Kilgrave points out they shouldn’t be bringing attention to themselves, Jessica insists on waiting for the ambulance to take the woman away. She wants to say it’s solely for the woman’s benefit, but Jessica’s also afraid to be alone with Kilgrave right now, she has no idea what this any of this means. 

The woman, Emily, insists on thanking Kilgrave before she lets the ambulance take her to the hospital, and Jessica can’t begin to untangle her emotions watching the exchange. Kilgrave is smiling at this woman, promising her she is safe, and clasping her hand tightly in kinship. Is she horrified that this woman assumes Kilgrave is a good man? Is she disgusted by what could have happened had he not been there, so changed by their journey? Is she terrified by what it means that Kilgrave’s idea of justice and morality matches her own on this night?

Either way, the moment that ambulance drives away, sirens and lights blaring, Jessica lets Kilgrave tell the cops to forget about them and they head straight to a bar. Jessica gets so drunk she blacks out after barely an hour. Her last clear memory is of staring at Kilgrave in total wonder while he repeats the events another time at her behest. 

When she’s awakened in the morning it isn’t because of the sun, although that’s plenty bright, or her rolling stomach, but by the feeling of Kilgrave running his fingers through her hair. And she hates herself because she doesn’t tell him to stop. 

\--

“I can’t be a hero without you.” Kilgrave told her that fateful day in her childhood home. Their last conversation before everything changed. 

\--

Every once in awhile, only in order to work a case, they have to pretend to be married, or dating, or otherwise joined closely. If Jessica gets her say she’ll make them caustic siblings, but Kilgrave is usually quicker than her in explaining their relationship, and even without physically touching her he intimates their relationship is very intimately involved. 

Each time in the conversation he’ll work his way into asking for her genuine consent for them to touch. He never pushes too far, usually just holding hands, or brushing her hair back from her face. Kilgrave’s very careful to technically give her the choice to say yes or no, but more realistically he waits until it will be awkward for the case if she refuses him. 

In the beginning these “requests” were heavy handed and unpleasant, with her scrubbing her skin afterwards, or drinking the entire contents of whatever hotel mini fridge they've got. But as the days and months slip by Jessica finds herself viewing it as an unpleasant chore, and then, finally, she doesn’t mind. 

She notices he moves to asking her when she has more of a choice; when the third party they want information from isn’t listening, or it’s just a waitress who doesn’t need to seem them act in any way, but she still finds herself saying yes more often than not. She tries not to think about why that is. 

One day, while driving through atrocious rain with horrible window wipers, five and a half months into her exile, Jessica snaps at Kilgrave. 

“Jessica, do I have your conse-”

“God! You don’t have to ask me every time you need to touch me. It’s so annoying!” Kilgrave is absolutely flabbergasted by this response. 

(While Kilgrave loves how Jessica does things he’d never expect, this takes the cake. Because Jessica delights in pulling him around by her precious rules, and this one is strictly enforced.) 

As her words sink in, instead of just her tone, a smile of pure joy steals across his features, seeming to take up residence. 

“So I have your total and unmitigated consent to touch you whenever I like, then?” Kilgrave asks, his voice full of hope. Jessica barely hears him, missing his smile by miles as her sole focus is on the huge puddle coming up, wondering how to get around it and worried the car will hydroplane. 

“Yes! As long as you’re not a creep about it.” When they’re forced to stop because of the weather in a terrible motel with the longest walk from parking lot to room, Jessica is in a horrible mood, and expects much worse from Kilgrave, yet he’s still smiling. 

\---

It's their first night away from the house and Jessica's so tired she doesn't fight Kilgrave's directions to the fanciest hotel nearby. When he orders one room instead of two, however, she does object. 

“You can't be serious. I'm not sleeping in the same room as you.” She states in clear disbelief. 

“Really?” Kilgrave says, his eyes alight but his voice dangerously calm, “you'd rather I was all by myself, with no supervision, where any maid or guest could come across my path?” Jessica's eyes widen. “You'd rather let me be free to roam the night unwatched, where I'd be able to make all kinds of merriment?” If Jessica had turned her head she'd see a horrified hotel clerk, but Jessica only has eyes for the beast in front of her. 

She sighs loudly, but they both knew he's won. 

“We'll take one room, please.” Jessica says. Kilgrave positively beams, “with two beds.” She adds. His eyes dim, but don’t lose their luster. 

\--

It's month five of their horrible adventure and Jessica is not having a great day. After finding Kilgrave missing from their mutually agreed upon gathering point she’s pissed. This is several times into them splitting up to work a case, and Jessica realizes with a start that she wholeheartedly expected him to be there. 

She waits twenty minutes, running over the case and their respective roles in their head: a man with a rap sheet as long as Kilgrave’s (“Oi, that’s not fair! I’ve never been caught!”) jumped bail and went on a theft and arson spree, the last of which left two people with smoke inhalation damage and a dead kid. Jessica went to “The Journal", this backward town's idea of a news station, and Kilgrave was supposed to stake out the last known addresses this “guy” is known to hang around (“More like scum bag,” Jessica always says). By minute thirty Jessica no longer thinks he’s late to torment her, and a sick feeling fills her gut like something could be wrong with him. 

But that doesn't make any sense because: A. Anything horrible happening to Kilgrave would, by definition, be a good thing, and B. Jessica should be ecstatic to have hours of uninterrupted Kilgrave free time and the possibility of a hurt Kilgrave, instead of sick with worry. She tries to tell herself she’s just scared for what he could be doing to others, but even Jessica is forced to admit that since they’ve begun this, he hasn’t taken one overt action against another person unless he feels slighted by her, and even then he only threatens.

She takes a moment to run through their morning together. This crappy town’s only available room had a double bed, which always puts Kilgrave in a joyful mood. In fact, Kilgrave was positively beaming, even though Jessica forced him to sleep on top of the sheet (“It’s too cold to go on top of the blanket!”) and built a line of pillows between them. There was a very embarrassing moment when he woke her up to tell her she’d thrown the pillows off in the middle of the night and tried to spoon, but Jessica maintains he made this up, as it’s frankly preposterous. The argument rang a bit hollow as she’d stepped over pillows as she'd made it. 

Continuing, they drank old coffee and ate burned eggs at the diner near them, but the bacon was good, so no real hardship. Apparently the cop they spoke to was flirting with her, which Jessica didn’t notice until Kilgrave dramatically put his arm on the back of her seat, technically not touching yet oozing body language. 

But all these moments add up to a big fat zero in terms of what Kilgrave could be upset about, and the fear doesn’t recede. With nothing else to do, Jessica decides to trace Kilgrave’s supposed last steps. It’s trailer number three, the trailer of the scumbag’s ex girlfriend, that peaks her interest. The place smells terrible, even from out here; there’s disjointed banging noises from inside, and she gets a feeling in her gut like this place is bad news. 

“Hello?” She calls out, already positioned to pull the door off its hinges. She hears a voice, 

“Jessica?” and then a dull thud. It takes a moment for her to realize that dull thud was the sound of a bat hitting the back of her head, and then blackness envelops her.

Jessica wakes up in the disgusting trailer, with the acrid smell of chemicals and a pounding sensation originating from the base of her head. She blinks several times and sees fakes wood with water stains too close to her face to be the ceiling. 

It takes another moment to orient herself, and she feels something digging into her back. She shifts to try to get away from it, and a tugging sensation tells her that her hands are tied to some metallic bar over her head.

“Probably a pipe.” She mutters to herself, barely a whisper, as her thoughts come together and Jessica realizes the top half of her body has been wedged into a fucking cabinet. 

She gets ready to use her strength to rip the pipe from the wall and free her hands, even if it will spray her with disgusting trailer tap water. Only then Jessica realizes the shifting has made whatever’s on top of this cabinet jostle, and it sounds like the place is piled high with glassware. All of a sudden the smell her nose is filled with comes to the front of her mind, and her spirits deflate as she recognizes the smell. 

“He’s a meth head also?” Jessica moans out, this time far more than a whisper. This is fucking bad. If he’s cooking, or if her movements break something, the whole trailer could go up in flames. She might be a superhero but Jessica has no idea if she’d survive that kind of destruction. Before Jessica can get too lost in her thoughts she hears a male's voice that used to make her blood run cold, and lately has only been turning it lukewarm. 

“Fraid so.” Kilgrave agrees, his voice coming somewhere from her left. Jessica starts, her mind running in different directions, with a steady beat of pain telling her the scumbag swung hard at her head. She wants to ask him how he’s doing, what the fuck happened that he didn’t meet her when he was supposed to, where the scumbag is, if he’s hurt, why the fuck he didn’t use his powers (even if he isn’t allowed to), and how he even got captured in the first place. But Jessica keeps her mouth shut. She’s not sure which question makes the most sense for the situation, and she’s worried her addled head will make her say things she wouldn’t usually. 

In the end it doesn’t matter because Kilgrave never wastes a moment to pontificate. 

“You know, I have to say I am pleased.”

“What?” Jessica moans, noting her hands feel like the circulation has been cut off. And the fact that they’re raised above her head certainly isn’t helping matters.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come for me or not! I took quite the risk not making this man kill himself when he attacked me, but I knew you’d be cross, so I let him tie me up, and then I waited for you! Very patiently I might add.” Jessica groans, worried because while Kilgrave should be right, she'd just been wishing he had made the guy eat a bullet. Jessica blames her head wound.

“You know I’ve been so bored and uncomfortable and this place smells disgusting. I’m positive I’ve earned major karmic points not killing him right away.” Jessica ignores this. 

“Where is he now?” She asks Kilgrave, trying to move more gently so she doesn’t affect the glassware, hoping to give her shoulder some relief from whatever's digging into it. 

“I’d say he’s probably standing outside making no noise and trying to find out how to get hypothermia in 60 degree weather without a coat on.” Jessica notes that if anything her movements have put her shoulder in a worse position, and feels annoyed by the circumstances of her life. 

“So let me get this straight,” Jessica says from inside the cabinet, “You were attacked by Joe Schmo here, decided to risk your life and limb, let him tie you up, let yourself be trapped in this actual death trap, missed our meeting time, which is against the rules even though you could have easily commanded him in all manner of humane ways, and then let me get hurt and tied up, because you knew I’d be cross otherwise?!” 

Jessica waits for Kilgrave’s explanation. 

“I really thought you’d come sooner. I must admit I am impressed you waited so long for me to show up and didn’t immediately search for me.” Jessica wonders how this became her fault. “Still, here you are! Although this wasn’t a very good rescue attempt as you’re hurt and tied up. Shall I call out to him and tell him to untie us and then turn himself in?” Kilgrave asks like he’s been perfectly reasonable and now expects her to agree. 

“NO!” Jessica shouts, instantly regretting it as her head rallies against the noise. “Just, just figure out a way to get us out of here, without any commands since that’s your fucking theme song for today.” Jessica waits for a response but no words issue forth. Instead she hears mattress springs bounce and then the sound of ropes uncoiling. In barely a minute Kilgrave appears in her line of sight, crouched over her bottom half and balancing his weight to reach her ties. 

“How did you get out of the ropes so easily?” Jessica asks, completely amazed. 

“Well,” He says, a bit sheepish, as his fingers dance around her bindings “I might have told him to tie my hands with slip knots.” Jessica wants to be angry, but she’s not surprised, Kilgrave always has a fall back plan. “Now, do I have your genuine and unforced permission to touch you in order to untie these ropes?” 

“Oh for god’s sake!” Jessica exclaims, “Just untie me!” She wants to yell at him that she can see right through this whole charade, and this must be some fucked up test to see what she’d do, but her anger lessens as she feels how gentle Kilgrave is as he unties her, and how he places his hand on top of her head as he helps her out of the cabinet, careful that she doesn’t bump her head. 

They stand for a moment in this disgusting trailer, Kilgrave massaging her wrists and hands to get the feeling back in them. Jessica lets him, the feeling of relief to her limbs stronger than her desire to refuse him. His actions are so incongruous to his earlier behavior, Jessica doesn’t understand the man in front of her. To break the tension she asks the first question that pops into her head.

“Why didn’t you have him tie me up in a slip knot?” Kilgrave pauses for a moment and then says, 

“Would you believe it’s a kink of mine to untie you?” Jessica catches the bait in that moment, giving him an earful and yanking her hands away. But the real reason comes to her later, after they’ve turned in the guy and are cashing the check. Kilgrave wanted to be her knight in armor; he wanted to save her from a dangerous situation. And even though she knows this whole situation was one fucked up manipulated mess, she wonders if she can truly blame him when his intention, finally, is in the right place. 

\--

"Knowing it's real means you gotta make a decision.”

\-- 

“It’s just Stockholm Syndrome.” Jessica tells herself when she wakes up from a sex dream involving the sleeping form next to her, “And close proximity, and the seven month dry spell.” It’s a refrain she’s said more than once in her head, but this is the first time she said it out loud. It’s the first time she’s needed to. Her body is still humming though, and for the briefest of moments she considers reaching over and waking Kilgrave. Instead she turns her body away from him, and repeats her refrain. Kilgrave sleeps on next to her, breathing evenly and peacefully. 

\--

“One: keep denying it…”

\--

“So…” Jessica asks, they’re eating in a Denny’s, and it’s hilarious to see Kilgrave dressed to the nines in a place where most people are wearing double denim, eating a burger with more enthusiasm than she’d expect, “feel any different?” 

They’re one month and six days into their harried adventure, and Jessica feels like fighting. They’ve had a long string of pleasant interactions, which always makes her uncomfortable. Kilgrave takes her meaning and seems to consider it.  
“Well,” he begins, “I still only care for you, and every action I take is so that we’ll end up together and not because I feel any desire to do the right thing, but still..” 

In the pause Jessica feels like she’s been punched; Kilgrave hasn’t been as fragrant with the emotions he says he feels for her since they were in the house; she has no idea how to cope with it. 

“I think I do understand why you want to do the right thing, and while I wouldn’t do it for its own sake, there is something charming in doing it for you.” He eats a fry then, and Jessica realizes with a sense of alarm that her eyes have welled with tears. She sniffs without meaning to, and wipes her eyes with her fingers, wishing his words haven’t affected her like this. 

“Oh Jessie,” Kilgrave says, and he sounds so remorseful, it only brings on more emotion, “please don’t cry. I’m sure in a year or two you’ll have me saying I actually want to do the right thing for its own sake!” 

The waitress comes and brings her a stack of napkins but Jessica forces them to leave with their meal half eaten. Kilgrave doesn’t complain, and when he tenderly asks for permission to hold her hand, she gives it, the usual feeling of revulsion gone.

\--

“Or two: do something about it.”

\-- 

“You know,” He tells her one day when they’re driving to their next case. “You don’t need to be so afraid I’ll leave you and wreak havoc. The whole reason I’m doing this is to be with you and you’ve made plenty clear how you feel about morally grey areas.”

“Well that makes me feel so much better.” She says, voice full of sarcasm. Still, the next time he suggests them splitting up to cover more ground for a case she agrees. 

\--

Jessica used to love this house. It was her home, her comfort, the place with her happiest memories. When Kilgrave bought and filled it with fake memories Jessica felt all her emotions of love turn to hate. When they began their journey together she swore it off, refusing to use it as their base of operations. It would not be a refuge for when they’ve bitten off way more than they can chew and were choking. 

But life has a way of making you a liar. 

So here Jessica stands on a porch she’s refused to tread on. Three times she’s vowed it’ll be the last, and each time she breaks her word. 

The first time they returned Kilgrave would pick up an item and tell her where he got it and the amusing commands he’d given to obtain it. Jessica started breaking everything he’d touch until he got rid of the habit. 

The second time they returned Kilgrave peppered her with questions, trying to get more memories out of her time here. Jessica promised if he didn’t shut up she’d make him wish he’d never been born. 

The third time they returned Kilgrave isn’t being his usual annoying self: he’s barely moving in her parents bed. He hasn’t spoken for seventeen hours, not a murmured peep or agonized groan, and hasn’t opened his eyes in more than thirty-six. Jessica has no idea what to do. 

Their situation is comical in its cliched simplicity; a man with a vendetta against Kilgrave Past found them, gave her a nasty head wound, and stole him away. By the time Jessica found Kilgrave he was unresponsive, tied to some chair with wires stuck all over his body and gagged so tightly with a block of wood between his teeth she could see blood and splinters from halfway across the room. 

Jessica had a complete out of body experience, finding herself holding the man a few feet off the ground, choking him as she demanded to know what he’d done. 

“Your boyfriend’s toast.” He had told her, his face radiating disgust as it turned red, and then purple. Jessica’s reaction, to throw him to the side in a crumpled heap, was more because of his words than the effect her strength was having on him. With only a backwards glance to make sure the man was still breathing, Jessica gathered up Kilgrave. 

So now they’re in her house, Jessica holding a vigil for Kilgrave, waiting. Hoping for him to wake up. Dreading for him to wake up. She wonders what would happen if he didn’t. She thinks about finally being free from him and their terrible journey together. She falls into troubled sleep in the predawn, her thoughts fixed on her previous life. 

On the morning of the second day at the house Jessica wakes up to find Kilgrave staring at her. Hope and panic war in her breast and she jumps to her feet.

“Kilgrave? Are you ok? How’s your head? Can you move? Do you know who I am?” She watches as he eyes her through the barrage of questions. He carefully moves his extremities to prove it’s still possible, even though it looks like he’s mostly forgotten how. He opens his mouth to speak but only the shape of words comes out. Jessica holds her breath, waiting for him to try again. She thinks of getting him water but can't move from her spot, she has to know. 

“Of course I know you, Jessica Jones.” Jessica is so overcome with relief and happiness she throws her arms around him, kissing his lips for the barest of moments before burrowing her face in his neck. She’s crying in huge gasps like a dam has burst and she has no control over the damage. 

“Oh thank god.” Jessica says, the words barely coherent. Still, she knows he’s understood her and she feels him awkwardly put his arms around her, murmuring in her ear that everything will be alright, and he’s had far worse electric shocks from his childhood, that this won’t do him in. It takes him an exaggerated amount of time to say these few sentences, but Jessica stays in his arms so long there’s still plenty of silence before they part. 

 

She hates this fucking house. 

\--

“I realize this will take time. But I'm going to prove it to you.” 

\--

They're at some dive bar getting the lay of the land before seeking out their next bail jumper. Jessica is listening to Kilgrave complain that he's bored of bail jumpers, and they should use his powers to get some money so they can do more interesting cases that will save his soul faster. Jessica's heard this argument so many times she could argue his points herself, so she's not really listening as her eyes scan the room. There's a guy by the juke box who catches her eye, and Jessica realizes with a start that she's attracted to him. Her mental calculator reminds her it's been almost nine months since she last had sex, and her mind seeks to remember who it had been with. Unfortunately it skips from that thought into the fantasy she had last night, when Kilgrave stepped out of the shower in a towel and she’d imagined taking it off. 

With a very real, not fantasized shake of her head, Jessica gets up from the bar and makes her way over to the juke box. The guy notices her direct approach and smiles at her. 

“It’s so funny how no matter how much I travel, I still see juke boxes in all the bars I go to.” Jessica says. As chat up lines it's pretty lame, but her words are meaningless. If he’s any good at what she wants him for he’ll be paying attention to her body language.

“Oh yeah? Where ya from?” The guy asks, definitely picking up on every vibe she's throwing down. 

Before she can answer Kilgrave is standing right next to them. 

“Leave us.” He tells the man, who promptly moves away from the pair as though he'd rather be anywhere but. 

“Hey!” Jessica exclaims, wondering if she's more annoyed he used his powers so flippantly or that he just cock blocked her, “That's your use for the week, pal.” But Kilgrave is just looking at her, furious and hurt. 

“What was that about? Why did you do that?” 

“Uh, shouldn't I be asking you those questions?” Jessica asks, trying to deflect. But Kilgrave has had enough and he grabs her arm, pulling her out of the place. 

“Hey! We barely talked to anyone, and I'm still hungry.” Jessica exclaims, letting Kilgrave pull her along. While she really doesn't like his attitude she can't help but feel impressed; she can feel his rage and hostility and yet he hadn’t tried to do worse to that guy. 

“That’s not the appetite you seemed so concerned about a moment ago.” He snarls, still towing her along. Jessica waits for his pace to slow or his breathing to calm down, but when neither of things happen she tries a different tact.

“I wasn't doing anything.” She lies, waiting for him to scoff. When he does it a moment later, in the exact pitch and tone she was expecting she smiles. “Well I might have been trying to do something.” She concedes, expecting him to laugh. Instead he abruptly stops, turning his furious gaze onto her. 

“Do you have any idea of the sacrifices I make for you, every day?” He asks, and Jessica doesn't like where this is going, she feels like they're back in that Denny's and she wants to head him off. 

“Yes. And I-” She tries to tell him, but he won't be stopped. 

“Every moment I have to carefully consider my words and actions. 'Will Jessica like this?’ 'Will she approve of me using my powers for this?’ 'Will she laugh at this joke or become sullen for hours or days and not speak a word to me?’ I scrutinize every moment, and I live in horrible motels and eat crappy food and I sleep on beds so terrible they make comfort a distant dream, yet I do it all, for you! Everything I do is for you! My life is yours to push around as you wish, and yes I see in your eyes you want to argue it’s what you lived through with me, before, only you didn’t choose it, but Jessica!” 

And he looks at her with dangerous intensity, and Jessica can’t look away; she feels emotions rolling through her that in another time or with another person she would consider good and positive. But she refuses to let herself acknowledge them, even if they show so prominently on her face that Kilgrave can spot them. She begs him with her eyes not to say whatever he wants to, but he refuses her, though his stare loses its dangerous edge.

“The only moments I’ve ever had in my life of pure happiness have been when you've laughed at my jokes, or let me touch you, or look at me like I've done the right thing. I find myself thinking fondly of our horrible road trip through Ohio because I was sitting next to you. I even enjoy our terrible accommodations because I know I'll get to fall asleep to the sound of your breathing. I can’t stomach the idea that you’ll choose someone over me. I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you. What’s the point of all this if I don’t get you?” 

Jessica feels overwhelmed and angry at herself, surprised she's so moved by his speech. 

“So doing the right thing is only worth it if at the end of the day you'll get into my pants?!” She yells at him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to turn this into a huge fight and not a moment they share. 

“No.” He tells her, disgusted, “I want your love. I want you to want to be with me. I want you to come to that conclusion by your own design.” Jessica's ears are ringing and she feels lightheaded, “But for now I'll be satisfied by no one else getting to be with you.” 

Jessica wants to yell at him, and tell him he's a sexist pig; that he doesn’t own her and she can go have sex with whomever she pleases. But Jessica is distracted by the man standing in front of her. He's still terrible, and she can recall moments on this trip when his actions scarred and terrified her, but he's so much better than the thing he was before. Jessica realizes with a start that she considers him a man most days, rather than beast. 

“Nine months ago you would have just raped me.” She tells him. She sees him stiffen and she’s confused by the way her body responds to that gesture, hurt that he’s hurt. She watches him bend his fingers, pulling them into a fist and then stretching them out, and her hands itch to take his and hold them, to soothe her words into a kinder message.

Not for the first time, she ignores that desire. 

“I know.” Kilgrave says, his voice finally soft. “I hate that the only times I’ve been with you I never deserved it, and you never wanted it.” Jessica can’t say anything in response, he’s undone her fatally. 

She takes his hand, and they stand in silence, staring into each other's eyes. Jessica feels herself take a step closer to him, her head tilting, wondering distractedly what she’s doing. 

It’s then a group of people come out of the bar, pushing open the door with a bang and talking in loud, happy drunk voices. Jessica jumps about a foot, and Kilgrave looks physically pained by the ruckus. 

“Comes on.” She tells him, wondering if she's relieved or disappointed. “Let’s go; your hands are cold.”

They walk quietly back to the hotel room together. Neither of them speak much, although Jessica finds herself looking at Kilgrave more often than not, marveling at the person before her. 

When they get ready for bed, Jessica moves to the left, their sign that Kilgrave can slip in beside her. As Jessica listens to Kilgrave shift to move closer to her, the last thing he always does before he falls asleep, Jessica realizes with a start that she didn’t tell Kilgrave they were never going to happen, or it would be a cold day in hell before he’d touch her body again. 

“Fuck.” Jessica tells the quiet room; Kilgrave settles more closely beside her. 

\-- 

Kilgrave tortures a rapist into confessing his crimes. There’s an old hot plate used to make coffee at his place and Kilgrave forces the man to keep his hand on it until he confesses his worst sins. Once he admits his crimes through cries of pain Kilgrave tells the man to bandage his hand and repeat what he’s said at the local police station. They argue so ferociously afterwards Jessica’s head starts ringing from the tin of their voices. 

“I did it for you!” Kilgrave makes the point once more, the words losing their meaning in the repetition. “You said he would keep doing it! You said we couldn’t stop him! What’s the point in allowing me to use my powers if we can’t then make use of them?”

“You could have just made him confess!” She yells at him, repeating her argument a third time. 

“What’s the good in that?!” He yells, hands flying everywhere. Kilgrave pushes his hand through his hair and breathes deeply. When he next speaks his voice has lowered in pitch and his words are measured. “How will that give him a choice to do the right thing? And what if we were wrong? What if he wasn’t really the perpetrator and I forced him to confess to crimes he hasn’t committed?” Jessica says nothing to that. His point is a new one, and it stops her mid-thought. 

Jessica wonders what life she’s living in that Kilgrave has the moral upper hand in their argument. 

“No torture.” She finally says. She waits for him to repeat the phrase, and he only hesitates a moment before agreeing.

Jessica maintains to Trish in their weekly phone calls that she’s the one who holds the upper hand in their relationship, but today Jessica wonders if that's really true. 

\--

They're on a plane to New York. Kilgrave sweet talked the stewardesses (“entirely without my powers I assure you!”) into giving them first class seats, spinning a tale about newlyweds returning to the place they first met. Everyone who hears his fake story eats it right up, and Kilgrave plays them for keeps, doting upon Jessica with saccharine compliments or clasping her hand, bringing it so close to his mouth she can feel his breath but never his lips. Jessica can't decide how she feels about this type of manipulation: he isn't using his power, even though she's allowed him to in small doses for months and months, but he's not being truthful. She isn't sure why this lie bothers her when she would do it at the drop of a hat. Still, she feels ill at ease.

Kilgrave can tell because the next time he takes her hand he pulls on it to get her attention. 

“You know,” he tells her conversationally, “it actually is our anniversary. And we are returning to the place we first met.” Jessica looks at him piercingly, wondering how he can read her so well. 

“What anniversary?” She asks suspiciously.

“Why Jessie, it's been a year since we began on our epic adventure! 365 days of traveling around, solving crimes and seeking my redemption, one more good deed at a time to counteract my twenty years of sins.” He looks to be in a good mood when he tells her all this, but Jessica knows him well enough to figure out he's building up to something. “It hasn't been too terrible for you, has it?” He asks, his voice light like he doesn't care what she says one way or the other, but his eyes scrutinize her face. 

Jessica doesn't know what to say. She wants to rip her hand away from his, she wants to yell at him or scream, she wants to go back in time to the younger version of herself who agreed to this and shake her, to come up with some other plan that involved drugging those hostages and overtaking Kilgrave, even though that would sacrifice all his progress and good deeds. But it's really too late for that, and if Jessica can be honest with herself, her hand is holding Kilgrave’s a bit too tightly to put on the song and dance as she once did. She can't even remember when it was how she truly felt. 

“I guess, it isn't too terrible.. anymore.” Jessica agrees, and lets herself feel her stomach flip over at Kilgrave's esctatic face. 

Still, she pulls her hand away from his, pretending they both don't notice her press her hand to his lips for just a moment before it's back in her lap. 

“Shut up.” She tells him, and his smiling lips stay closed. 

End


End file.
